


Forget Myself

by DayOfTheBethan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: A little bit of fluff, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Past Brainwashing, Torture, i dont know what else to tag this as, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayOfTheBethan/pseuds/DayOfTheBethan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky struggles with his memories and what he did, but gets some help in sorting his mind out. Then things go downhill.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER, INCLUDING THE AFTER-CREDIT SCENE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this after seeing The Winter Soldier last week, and waited until now to post it so you poor American souls wouldn't be tempted to read it because spoilers. It's the longest thing I've written, and the first fanfic I've done that I'm actually happy with for about three years. Be nice?   
> I don't own Marvel, or anything else you recognise.
> 
> Spot the Sherlock reference ;)
> 
> Once again, SPOILERS FOR THE WINTER SOLDIER.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very minor change made due to a realisation I'd made a dire geographical error - the Smithsonian is in DC, and the Tower is in New York. Can you tell I'm not American? So I've added a little paragraph to change that.

Right. Left. Right Left. Not bothering to pull the punches with his stronger metal arm, until eventually he punches straight through the bag and sends it to the floor. Not wasting a second, he moves on to the next, and the next after that, until there are ten bags lying in a row leaking sand, and he still can't remember who Bucky is. James,Yasha, Winter Soldier, Bucky, Sergant Barnes. All names floating in his head and all mean nothing and everything. There's another name too, the one that does mean something, although he's not exactly sure what. Steve. The helicarrier and the crash and the fall into the water is a blur, only surfacing in bits and pieces when he least wants it to, but Steve is always there, blue and red and white and with him until the end of the line.

There's an itch at the back of his skull that keeps trying to lead him in a direction he knows he shouldn't go. When he tries to probe further, there's a chair and intense pain and then he blacks out. He wakes to a dull throb that feels like the aftermath of a night with the Howling Commandos and that's new, that's something he didn't know before. The words bring warmth with them, and other words too. Comrade. Friend. Brother. Walking through Washington is a blur. He sees the damage he wrought and ignores it with a practised ease, only giving it the barest of glances as though he's simply a resident who has seen it too many times to be bothered by it any more.

It's not until he stops and looks up at the imposing structure and realises he is surrounded by kids who run past with not a care in the world that he sees where his feet have taken him. The Smithsonian, and a banner in front proclaiming a new exhibition about the life of Captain America. Old habits force him to find an alternative entrance, and he finds himself at the end of the exhibition and the story, the plane and seventy years of ice for a man he saved. Walking against the flow, he finds himself at a stand with the words 'James Buchanan Barnes' at the top and they still mean everything and nothing to him. The face on the stand is familiar, it's the one he sees when he avoids looking in windows and mirrors, but it's not his. That face is open and laughing, quick to smile and equally quick to scowl, but only in jest. His face is blank and closed, not suited for any expression. Staring at the photo only makes his headache worse, so he turns and looks at the mannequins and costumes behind, at the one that supposedly belonged to him. Those memories are even more blurred than the helicarrier, a man who looks like a gnome leaning over him and poking him with needles, Steve leaning over and ripping straps from the bed to free him, drinking in bars until early in the morning and he can't see straight. The blur accompanies him back to the motel who didn't ask questions where he curls in a corner and attempts to sleep.

Weeks pass, not that he notices. His brain is a constant swirl of memories and trying to work out which ones are real and which ones are not is a hard task, one that often leaves him either worn out or passed out at the end. 

(He prefers the days when he passes out because it means he doesn't wake up screaming with the taste of blood in his mouth.)

He destroys more punching bags, moving from gym to gym as they get annoyed at the constant destruction of property. The Smithsonian starts to become an old friend, like the men in the memories it holds. 

As more memories surface, he becomes less and less clear about who he is. What he is is another matter entirely. Killer, assassin, bounty hunter, mercenary. All names he's been called, and all suit him better than Bucky or James or Barnes. He still doesn't know what to call himself when the money finally runs out and he finds himself thrown out of the motel and onto the streets. 

It takes a few days of wandering, but he eventually finds a homeless centre that takes in his raggedy appearance with only a slightly raised eyebrow, sending him to the bathrooms to get washed up and dry before pushing a bowl of soup into his hands. The other people there mutter amongst themselves at this intruder with dead eyes and a metal arm.

~*~

Steve would say it's a coincidence that the day he finally has time to go to the homeless shelter with Sam is the day there's a new, entirely too familar resident there, but he believes the universe is rarely so lazy. It takes Steve a while to notice the man with tired eyes and fingerless gloves that do little to hide the metal sheen on one arm, but when he does, he immediately leaves Sam and walks over.

"Hey." Steve says quietly. To say he wasn't worried about the reaction he would get would be lying, but Steve had never been one for self-preservation, even before the serum. "Mind if I sit?"

The other man doesn't answer, doesn't even look up, so Steve takes this as an invitation and sits anyway. They sit in silence for a few minutes, a silence that is awkward but also strangely companionable.

"Buck-" Steve starts.

"I'm not Bucky." the other man finally looks up for a second. "I don't know who I am any more, but I'm not Bucky. He died when he...I fell from the train. That much I do know."

Steve closes his eyes briefly, fighting back the memory of watching his best friend fall. "Okay. What do I call you then?"

The other man shrugs. "Whatever. Doesn't matter, it won't be me anyway."

"Can I call you James?" Steve asks, and is thankful when he seems to consider it, repeating it like he's feeling out how it tastes on his tongue. Finally, he nods.

"James. That works."

The conversation lapses into silence once again, and once again Steve takes the initiative. "You saved my life. Didn't you? Sam said they don't know who pulled me out of the water, but it was you, wasn't it?"

James looks up again for a second, and Steve is caught breathless by the dead eyes he gets a brief glimpse of before hair covers them again. The thousand-yard stare, he's heard it called. "I couldn't remember anything then. Just that you were important. Didn't know who to, just that you were to someone."

Steve hesitates before replying with "...and now? What do you know now?"

James shrugs again, the metal arm whirring slightly as he moves. "I don't know what's real." he raises his head fully for the first time, and doesn't look back to the table. "I spend hours trying to remember but it doesn't help, it just hurts and I can't do it any more I need to know who I am what I did I need to know!" Anger flashes in his eyes briefly  
and he hits the table with his left arm, leaving a dent the shape and size of his fist in the wooden top. He takes a deep breath to calm himself a little before continuing. "I remember the Howling Commandos, and you rescuing us from that HYDRA facility." Even saying the word HYDRA sends a shiver down his spine, a reminder that he had belonged to them for so long. "I remember the World Expo and going dancing with the girls, and I remember falling and the cold. After that-"

"You don't have to talk about that." Steve interrupts gently, amazed he's managed to get James talking this much and for this long. He glances over to Sam and sees he is getting up, ready to leave. "Look. I have to go. I'll come back tomorrow."

James shakes his head. "You don't hav-"

"I'll come back tomorrow." Steve repeats firmly. "I don't care if you don't remember who you are. I'll help you, if I can. If you'll let me?" he asks, suddenly uncertain.

It takes a few moments, but James nods.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow." Steve gets up and goes over to Sam, glancing back briefly before leaving.

~*~  
It's not a fun night for James. Talking seems to have only confused the memories more and suddenly there's Howard Stark strapping him into a chair, Falsworth giving him a gun and setting out the parameters of his latest mission, Steve shutting the door on his cryo chamber. He screams himself awake three times before finally giving it up as a bad job and sitting up on the edge of his bed, head in hands as he tries to soothe his headache with the cool metal of his arm. He stays there until dawn, trying not to think of anything. When the sun starts to appear through the curtains, he gets up and puts his hoodie and gloves on before going into the canteen where he spends most of his time.

James doesn't realise how long he's been sat there, and is surprised when suddenly someone sits opposite him and it's not Steve. He looks up to see someone wearing a thick jacket with the hood pulled up, that doesn't quite conver the distinctive red hair beneath it. "Natalia?"

"Steve said he found you. He still doesn't know about...us."

James nods. A small blessing. "Does it get any easier? The memories?"

She shrugs, an elegant movement that he remembers from long evenings spent in hotel rooms together. "I deal." is all she says on the matter. "It's good to see you Yasha." she says, before getting up. It's not until after she leaves that he realises they had been speaking Russian.

Again, he doesn't realise how much time has passed in silence until Steve sits in front of him. "Hey."

James nods in response, unwilling to start the conversation in case it leads to another outbrst like it had done the day before. Steve seems to be doing the same thing, sitting back and waiting for James to start talking. It takes about twenty minutes for the silence to become unbearable. "I couldn't sleep last night." James says. "Kept having nightmares. Everything got mixed up, but I think I remember more."

Steve smiles and it's unfair that it lights up his whole face like it's the best news he's ever had. "That's great Bu-James! Well, not that you had nightmares, but that you remember more."

"It's not the sort of thing I wanted to remember."

Steve's face falls. "Oh." 

James nods. "I remember the cryo chamber, the confusion that came when I was woken up and it was months later than what I remembered. I remember being told to take down Captain America at any cost." Steve's breath hitches at this one, but James pays no attention, too lost in thought. "I remember..." he stops, not wanting to tell the good Captain what else he remembers, for some reason not wanting to tarnish the image the soldier still has of his best friend but also perversely wanting to, wanting to get through to Steve that he wasn't the same person from the war.

"What you do you remember?" Steve prompts.

"I remember killing. Men, women. Children. Their screams, their blood. The snap when I broke their necks. I remember liking it."

"That wasn't you." Steve doesn't let his face show the shock he's feeling inside, and his words are more a reassurance to himself than to his friend. "It wasn't you." he repeats.

James takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He'd caught a flicker of something on Steve's face and it bothered him more than he wanted to say. He's impressed at the soldier's reserve though, and decides to call his bluff. "Why doesn't it bother you?"

Steve raises an eyebrow and gives James a look so familar it makes his heart hurt. "I'm a soldier, and I've recently found out that the organisation I've been working for has been keeping my best friend on ice for seventy years. Nothing really bothers me anymore." he says with a wry smile. Again, James catches a subtle change in expression that shows it bothers him actually quite a lot.

"I don't believe you."

"That's because you're a jerk." It's an automatic reaction and Steve doesn't even realise he's said it until it's too late.

"Punk." James replies and doesn't understand why until a memory filters through, of him in uniform and a skinny Steve standing outside an enlistment centre. The reaction from Steve is enough to warm his bones - that smile that lights up his whole face as though James is the best thing to ever happen to him.

Steve steers the conversation into safer waters after that, and it almost feels like they're in the mess tent after a mission, just shooting the breeze until the next one, except for every so often when James slips into Russian or stops talking suddenly and stares into the distance, clenching one hand into a tight fist until whatever he's seeing or remembering passes.

Steve comes back day after day, and James remembers more of the good things day after day. The bad things only tend to come at night, and he still screams himself awake twice or three times a night. They've been having the talks for a month when Steve gives him a proposition.

"I've been talking to Tony. He says you can move into the Tower, if you want." he looks at James with hope in his eyes.

James starts to shake his head, before stopping himself. he can't deny that the highlight of his day is the talks with Steve. "Are the rooms soundproofed?"

Steve nods. "We all have our demons to cope with."

James considers for a minute or two before nodding slowly. "Okay."

And so it happens that two days later, James Barnes moves to New York with Steve. He still isn't quite certain that he won't slip back into the mindset of the Soldier, but for some reason, he trusts Steve enough to know that, if he does, it'll be alright.

Meeting The Avengers is an experience, and not one that James would like to repeat. Doctor Banner was nervous but friendly. Tony was almost overbearing in his manner, but quickly won James over by talking ten miles a minute about sorting a new arm for him, one that didn't have the star on it that was a constant reminder of who had been his masters. Thor was absent, he was told, but would be returning soon. Barton was clearly close to Natalia, which made him an immediate enemy of James, but they soon bonded in the range. Natalia was a different matter altogether. Their past had yet to be revealed, and so they were awkward, not wanting to talk about anything from their shared memories.

After meeting them all, James is exhausted from the sudden influx of information and communication when the only person he's spoken to at length for months has been Steve, and so instead of letting Tony corral him to his labs, he goes to his rooms and lies on the bed, still not entirely sure how this has all happened. He's not going to complain though, and for the first time in months, he only wakes up once.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has chats with Clint and Nat, and more of his memories come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention in the first chapter, this isn't beta'd, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Again, I do not own anything you recognise.  
> Slightly shorter chapter this time.

The following three nights aren't so good. The memories get muddled again and his new housemates are mixed in them this time. A young Tony in the car crash that killed Howard. Clint takes the place of a target. Steve locks him in his cryo chamber again. Natalia watching as white lightning shoots through his skull and erases memories of red hair and soft skin in blinding pain and he wakes up with a scream dying in his throat and the words love is for children running through his head.

She finds him the next morning, sitting at the table in the kitchen with dark circles under his eyes and hands gripping his hair as he fights down more memories.

"Yasha" she says softly. "It gets better."

"It can't exactly get worse." he rasps, not looking up. "Love is for children?" He phrases it as a question, and her soft 'oh' is all he needs. "So that did happen? You stood and watched as they tortured me?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"You had more of a choice than me. You always did." he says through gritted teeth, finally looking up at her. "I was just a tool, something that could be put away until it was needed again, you...you were like a pet, a treasured _pet_ , someone to be cared for and adored." he growls and its not until a small noise makes its way through her lips that he realises he's stood up and is right in her face. He backs off a few steps and sits back down. "Why?"

She considers her answer carefully, knowing the truth is the worst thing for him to hear at the moment, but also knowing he would find out eventually and hate her even more for it. "They were going to kill you otherwise, and I couldn't see that."

He freezes, muscles tense, before he turns to look at her, eyes burning. "You could have ended it for me? You could have ended it all, and you didn't? Instead you stood and watched me get wiped, again? For what? For love? They were right, love is for children." he hisses, and this time when he stands he doesn't stop, pressing her against the wall by her neck and isn't that the perfect time for Steve and Clint to walk in. Steve grabs his left arm, Clint his right, and together they manage to wrestle James off her and onto the floor. Clint goes to help Natasha, but not before flipping Steve a small EMP disc.

"James, calm down!" Steve hisses as James fights against his grip and lands a well-placed kick to the blond's knee, twisting in his grip like an eel. Suddenly his left arm goes limp and heavy as Steve manages to place the EMP on it, and he twists it behind James' back to cuff to his other wrist. "Now will you calm. Down?" Steve asks again, and gets up slowly when James nods, ready for any sign of dissent. He hoists James to his feet and drags him to a chair, forcing him down and quicky recuffing his hands behind the wooden back.

"Nat, you alright?" he finally turns his attention to her and Clint.

"I'm good." she affirms, pushing off the wall and going over to the table, sitting in the chair Steve pulls out for her with a wry grin. "I can handle chairs by myself Rogers." she says dryly. He just glares at her before taking a seat himself and gesturing for Clint to do the same.  
Looking between James, who is staring at his knees, and Natasha, who is looking at James, Steve sighs. "Which one of you is going to tell me what that was about? Tasha? James?" Neither answer him for a few minutes, and just as he's about to ask again, James starts to talk.

"I know her as Natalia." he begins, pulling against the cuffs. "Steve, do I have to be cuffed? I can't do anything with that damn disc on my arm."

"Yes. Keep talking." Steve says curtly.

Natasha takes over instead. "He trained me when I was younger. Black Widow and the Winter Soldier, the two most deadly assassians to come out of the Red Room-"

"Red Room?" Steve interrupts. "But wasn't it-"

"That's what we knew it as." James says quickly.

"Right. Okay. So that's where you know each other from. Carry on."

"Relationships weren't encouraged. At all. Forbidden, actually, but that didn't stop us. It could never have happened if my handlers hadn't finally decided I could be trusted enough to be kept out of cryo for longer than a month." There's a definite bitter tone to James' voice, and Steve can't blame him in the slightest. "Then one day, about six months later, they walked in on us. Natalia had always left straight after before, but she'd stayed that night. I don't remember why."

Natasha takes over then. "I'd stayed because I wanted to, and because you said they had never come in before, always just knocked and let you come to them. It was all a blur from then, the next thing I clearly remember is Yasha strapped into the chair, screaming. They gave me an ultimatum. Either I watch him die, or I watch him be wiped again. I was young, and in love, or I thought I was, so I chose the latter."

"Love is for children." Clint mutters. "Tasha, why didn't you tellme?"

"I didn't want to be compromised again."

Steve gets the impression they're having a completely different conversation to the one he's hearing, but shakes his head and instead focuses on James. He's looking at the table again, gently tugging on the cuffs and now Steve can understand his aversion to being restrained. He gets up and goes behind, key ready to unlock them. "If I take these off, you have to behave. Tony only let you stay here because I promised him nothing would happen. Don't make me break that. Okay?"

James nods after a few seconds. "Okay."

Steve nods and unlocks the cuffs before prising the EMP disc off his arm. "I'm sorry." he says quietly. "About everything."

"Nothing you can do now." James turns in his chair and gives him a look that's so like the one Bucky used to give it makes Steve's heart hurt. "They're gone. Natalia is here. I'm here. You're here. My memories are coming back, although I wish some of them stayed buried. That's all I need."

His quiet admission and small smile makes Steve smile softly. "It's good to have you back." he rests a hand on James' shoulder briefly before turning around. "Nat, you coming?" he asks suddenly, giving Clint a sideways glance as he does. She nods and stands to leave with the captain, only pausing to brush her hand gently over James' hand. She murmurs something in Russian and leaves after the captain.

James leans back in his chair and sighs, closing his eyes. "I'm not sure if moving in here was a good idea." he says quietly after a few minutes, not knowing if anyone was still there to hear it.

"Steve would say it's the best thing that ever happened to him." Clint replies.

James scoffs. "If I thought it would make a difference, I'd try and beat some sense into him. People have been trying that for years, never seemed to work." he opens his eyes and looks over to Clint. "Why are you still sat there Barton? Don't you have better thing to do than listen to a bitter old man?"

Clint shrugs. "Not really. Ever since SHIELD went down, I've been out of a job. The Avengers don't get called out enough to make my life interesting, so listening to a bitter old man is fine by me. If the bitter old man wants to talk, that is."

"I don't want to talk about me. I don't know anything about you. I feel I should, because you're so close to Natalia."

Clint nods. "Fair enough. What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Where you grew up, how you joined SHIELD, how you know Natalia."

"I'm guessing that last one is the most important, right?" Clint grins. "I met Nat when she was still working for the KGB. She'd got on SHIELD's radar, and I was sent to take her out. But, when I saw her, I just saw someone following orders, with no agenda other than that. So I made a different call. Cou-my handler at the time chewed me out for it, but he eventually agreed I'd made the right decision. Her training made her a perfect fit for SHIELD. When we thought it still was SHIELD, anyway." Clint grimaces. "But I guess you know that about her training anyway."

James nods. "She had the same as me, and then I gave her some more. We were the best of the best together, and our...handlers saw that. We were sent out on more and more missions together, not that I remembered any of them."

"From what Nat has said, no one else she knew was kept on ice or wiped as much as you. Why? If you don't mind me asking."

"I was considered a liability. I think. I don't really remember" he scowls. "I do remember the first time I woke up with a metal arm, I killed one of the scientists. Presumably they didn't trust me after that. I've gotton used to being the most untrustworthy person in the room."

"Tell me about it." Clint says quietly.

James looks up at him, frowning. "Huh?"

Clint sighs. "You aren't the only one who's had their head meddled with. Admittedly, mine only lasted about a week, but I still got many good people killed. Including mine and Nat's handler. He was a good man. A good friend."

"Now I see what this is about. You stayed here to get me to talk because you 'know what I'm going through'. Let me guess, Steve put you up to this? Of course he did, he's always been one for talking things out." James says, tone a mixture of resignation and bitterness. "I should have known. All that about having nothing to do so why not listen to a bitter old man talk. I should have realised what bullshit it was."

"Look, James. Yes, Steve put me up to it. But I wouldn't have agreed if I thought it wouldn't he-"

"Yeah, well come back when you've been brainwashed and used as a weapon for seventy years, not seven days, and then see how you feel." James spits before knocking his chair over as he stands and leaves, pushing past and ignoring Steve as he does.Steve blinks at James as he goes past and decides not to shout after him, the look in his eyes showing that wouldn't be the greatest idea. Instead, he goes into the kitchen where Clint is still sat at the table.

"Didn't go well, huh?"

Clint shakes his head. "Nope. Got to talking about my experience, and he dismissed it out of hand. Knew you'd had a part in it straight away."

Steve sighs. "Yeah, he always did know when I'd done something. Sorry Clint, I thought he might be more receptive for some reason."

"It's fine Cap. I don't think he likes me anyway, I'm too close to Nat." he says with a wry grin.

Steve shakes his head and smiles slightly. "I'm sure that's not the case. But if it is, I'd recommend you stay out his way for a few days..."

"Roger that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where it all goes downhill for poor James. As ever, I don't own anything and this is unbetaed.
> 
> Thank you so so much for all the kudos and bookmarks and comments! They mean a lot, and make me want to actually finish the thing.

James has been living in the Tower for two months, three since the whole SHIELD is HYDRA debacle that led to him getting his memories back. His nightmares are steadily getting decreasing and more of the good memories are coming back, now the seventy years of blood and death covering them up has been cut through. Steve has had little to do as Captain America, as have the rest of The Avengers - apparently late summer isn't a popular time for attacks on civilisation. As such, the team and James have been growing closer. 

"Oi, Barnes!" Clint yells. "Think you could stop stealing my stuff one of these days?"

"Don't know what you're on about." James says nonchalantly, walking past wearing a purple hoodie that clearly isn't his. "Not my fault you keep losing your stuff. Seems your eyes aren't as good as you thought." he grins, ducking out the way of a cushion thrown at his head before throwing it back.

Steve eyeballs the two and decides not to interfere - it's become a habit. He would regret ever introducing the two, but he can't help but grin at the sight of James laughing and smiling so easily. There's still the odd moment when his eyes will go dark and he'll shut everyone out, but they're getting rarer and rarer, and Steve couldn't be happier. 

The two snipers are stopped in their cushion war by Bruce grabbing it out of Clint's hands, a surprising move from the mild-mannered scientist. They both turn to look at him, and he shrugs and looks over to the coffee table where Tony is standing. "It was annoying us." Bruce says mildly. Clint and James sigh and turn to each other again.   
"Gym?" James says, and Clint nods, stretching as he starts to stand up. Bruce returns to Tony and they start talking again, snippets of conversation floating over as the snipers leave. 

They don't make it to the lift before they are interrupted by JARVIS. "There appears to be some form of metal doom-bot invading. I've been asked by Director Fury to tell you to 'get your asses into gear   
and sort it out.'"

His calm British voice doesn't stop the small-scale panic that follows, everyone running in different directions to get suited up. Steve ducks into his room to get his suit, but pops his head out again a second   
later. "Urm, James. You can join us if you want..."

He shakes his head. "I'll stay out of it. Don't want you worrying about me in the middle of battle."

Steve nods, a slightly relieved smile on his face. "Don't get in trouble."

"How can I? Taking all the trouble with you." Steve grins outright at that before ducking back into his room.

Five minutes later, James is alone in the Tower for the first time since he'd moved in. The lack of usual bustle and activity leaves it feeling extremely empty. "Hey, JARVIS, is there any news footage of the ...doom bots, was it? yet?"

"Not yet. Would you like me to inform you when there is?"

"Please."

"Very well sir."

James sighs and flops down on the sofa, grabbing the tablet Tony had given him and flicking through various news sites to see what they say about the attack. It's a good twenty minutes before footage begins to appear and James can see his new friends in action for the first time. He's only been watching for a few seconds before a warning bell sounds and he's startled by the door to the main shared area of the Tower smashing down.

"JARVIS?!" he yelps before jumping over the back of the sofa and sliding smoothly into a battle stance to confront the men in black streaming into the room and pointing guns at him. "Send a message to Tony." He doesn't wait for confirmation before focusing his attention on the men standing in front of him.

The one in front stands up straight and cocks his head to the side. "You're looking well."

James frowns, but doesn't move and tries to hide the fact his heart is beating a mile a minute. "I don't know you" he replies, automatically slipping into Russian to match the man in front of him.

"Ah, but you do. You see, nothing disappears, only changes."

These seemingly innocuous words send a spike of white hot pain through James' skull, dropping him to his knees and leaving him incapable of fighting off the two men who move immediately to yank his arms behind his back. The one clearly in charge walks over, taking his time as he pulls a leather pocket from his belt and opens it to reveal a small syringe. James has recovered enough to fight against the men holding him, but it only takes a second for the man with the needle to press it against his neck and press the plunger. It takes a few minutes to take effect, but he eventually slumps in their grip. It's the work of a few minutes to get his limp body into the elevator and then down into the van waiting for them at the bottom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Steve dodges a flying metal drone and hurls his shield after it in frustration. "These things need to learn some manners!" he gripes, retrieving the shield just in time to use it to block a razor sharp spike on the end of a metal leg.

"Suck it up Cap, not everyone can be as goody two shoes as you!" Tony shouts as he flies past and blasts the offending spike into oblivion. 

"On your six Cap" Clint calls out from the building on the left where he's camped out with his bow, picking them off as easily as he swats flies. "I agree though, they need to learn some manners."

"Clint, you don't know what manners are." Nat says with a small laugh, sounding like she's lounging around in bed, and not fighting metal death monsters. Clint laughs, and the conversation stops for a few minutes as there is a sudden onslaught of metal. 

"Urm, Cap?" Tony breaks the silence. "Slight emergency at the Tower, there's a security breach."

"What?" Steve only half hears it, and Tony repeats what he said. "What sort of security breach?"

"Men in black combat gear, that sort of security breach..."

"Shit. Right, clear this up ASAP. Tony, can JARVIS stall them?"

"No can do Cap, he tried but they apparently managed to override the controls. Sorry."

"Right. ASAP guys. Tony, how quickly can you get back there?"

"Ten minutes."

"See you there."

Steve deliberately kicks himself into soldier mode to try and ignore the panic that's running through his head at the thought of something - anything - happening to James, and tried to reassure himself that   
he's more than capable of looking after himself. The battle lasts another twenty minutes in this way, and he eventually looks round to see the smoking remains of various metal beasts.

Ten minutes later, all the Avengers are amassed in the living room in various states of tiredness and hurt, watching the security footage of James being taken. Steve watches it, ashen-faced, but frowning in confusion when a simple few words drops James to his knees. He turns to Natasha, who is ready with the explanation.

"Trigger word. It's a common thing the Red Room used, normally just to make sure their operatives came back at the right time, but also used when they...misbehaved." she says dispassionately.

"Captain Rogers? I've received a video addressed to you." JARVIS interrupts the conversation, sounding almost apologetic as he does.

"Play it." Steve says tersely and turns to look at the screen on the wall. The video comes up and Steve takes an involuntary step forward at the sight of James unconscious and strapped to a chair with metal bands, an intimidating piece of of equipment hovering above his head. A quick glance to Natasha confirms his suspicions - its the chair that features so heavily in James' nightmares. Steve can tell the moment his friend begins to wake up, pulling against the restraints and eyes flying wide when he can't move. Recognition   
dawn in his eyes a moment later, quickly drowned by fear as he starts to struggle in earnest. Steve is frozen in place, can hardly breathe at the sight of James so terrified. What colour Steve has left in his face quickly drains when James starts to beg, a long stream of words in every language he knows. Steve can only get the gist of about half of it, but that's more than enough. He stops as another man steps into the camera view, back to the lens, blocking James from view. The man starts to speak in Russian, and Jarvis immediately brings up a translator on the screen.

"-dier. Soldiers obey orders. You did not. You know what happens to soldiers who disobey." The man moves to stand by James' head, next to the panel that presumably controls the contraption above the table. James follows him with his eyes and Steve has never seen his friend so terrified, not even when he was hanging from a metal railing over a snow-filled gorge.

The man trails a hand along James' jaw almost lovingly and he flinches away from it as much as he can, only to be stopped by the man's fist in his hair. He prises James' mouth open with his other hand and nearly gets bitten for his troubles. His other hand releases James' hair and slaps him, shocking him enough to allow the man to force the rubber bit into James' mouth. "Don't want you hurting yourself." he chuckles. "If you'd only have come back when we told you to, this could have been avoided."   
The man takes his hand from James and flicks a switch on the panel. The contraption comes down, another switch is flicked and James is suddenly screaming, convulsing against the bands holding him in place. The video cuts off with him still screaming.

The room is quiet for a few minutes, all eyes on Steve. He stares at the blank screen, eyes hard, before turning to Natasha. "Was that wiping?"

She shakes her head. "The programming works best on easily manipulated minds. Ones that have recently suffered massive trauma. Children." She says quietly. "That was just punishment. They'll use it to break him down enough so the programming will take properly."

"How long do we have?"

"I never heard of anyone lasting longer than four days."

"Then we have three."

She nods sharply. "I'll get on to my contacts who are still connected to that world. Might be they'll have heard something, although they might need some persuading to give me the information. I'll do whatever I need to get him back."

Steve nods, and she leaves the room. "Tony, can you get JARVIS to track them?"

"He's been doing it since they broke in." Tony is sat in the corner, distracted as he does something on his tablet. He's taken the break-in possibly even more personally than Steve, and has been working non-stop since he got back to recode the security protocols. 

"Clint, can you see if Nat needs help?" the archer nods and takes off after his partner.

"I have my own connections, I'll see if they have anything." Bruce assures him now he's finally come down from the adrenaline from being the Hulk. 

"Thanks Bruce." The scientist exits the room, leaving Steve practically alone, apart from the for once silent Tony in the corner. Steve sits on the sofa and takes a deep shuddering breath in, closing his eyes against the rising emotions that threaten to overtake him. The image of James strapped to his worst nightmare rises behind his eyes, and Steve has to swallow when his gorge rises.

"Hey, Steve." he looks up at Tony in surprise. "We'll get him back. I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IPoor, poor James. It gets better for him, honest. Well. Sort of. :D
> 
> As ever, this is unbeta'd, and I don't own anything you recognise. However, Max is my own character I've created :)
> 
> The chapters seem to get shorter and shorter and decrease in quality, I do apologise...

The next few hours are almost calm. Tony is sat in the corner, furiously recoding his security and trying to find out how the men got in, Natasha, Clint and Bruce are off using their extensive connections to try and find information, and Steve is looking through a list of names JARVIS had already managed to find, to see if he recognises any of them from what James has told him. All five of them are trying to shake the video from their mind, none more so than Steve. It's not until Natasha walks back in and sits next to Steve that he looks up and realises it's suddenly dark and he's actually kind of hungry.

"I've got in touch with everyone. Just have to wait for them to getback to me now." she tells him. "The waiting is always the worst part."

"I should've been here." he replies quietly. "I shouldn't have left him,I promised him he would be safe here..."

"S'not your fault Steve. You can't think like that, not yet at least. Wait until we have him back, and then let yourself think like that. But not yet. Don't let it cloud your mind."

Steve looks at her sideways. "How come you always know the right thing to say?"

She shrugs. "A gift of mine. We'll get him back, and sure, it'll be difficult again, but you've already managed to help him so much, you can do it again. We can do it again."

He nods slowly. "Thanks Nat." he leans his head on her shoulder briefly before standing up. "I'm going to get changed. If you find anything, come get me."

Not one of the team sleeps that night, instead choosing to converge in the sitting room and wait for their contacts to get in touch or keep searching through lists of names and buildings for any information. They are not a group built for inaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"How's it going?" the newcomer asks the guard outside the cell holding the prisoner. He looks through the one-way glass and raises an eyebrow. "He won't last long." he says confidently. The guard hums an affirmative and stands up, cracking his back as he glances in at the dark haired man curled on the floor, fine tremors running through his body.

"Take over for a bit? I need a piss and something to eat." he asks the newcomer, who rolls his eyes. "You owe me Tom."

"Cheers man." Tom claps his friend on the shoulder and escapes down the corridor. Max takes Tom's place and picks up the book he had been reading, flipping through a few pages before givng it up as boring and putting it back down, closing his eyes instead and leaning against the back of the chair.Soft muttering comes through the speaker on the wall, distracting him from the silence. It takes a few minutes, but he finally manages to work out what the prisoner is saying. 

"James Barnes...32..55...7..." 

He's just repeating the same thing over and over again in a voice so wrecked it barely sounds human. Max had been watching when they'd brought him in the day before. The electricty had surged through his body four times, for longer each time. By the last one, it was a good few minutes before the power was shut off. He's been in the chair twice since then. Max is honestly surprised the man is still conscious, let alone able to speak half-coherently.

The door on the other side of the cell starts to open, and the man inside flinches violently before starting to push himself up, muscles still quivering. He manages to get himself sitting up as the door closes behind the two men who walked in. One is heavily built and clearly not a scientist - Jack or Jake or something, Max thinks. The other is the head scientist trying to break the prisoner's mind. He's carrying a video camera.

"That's Karpov." Tom supplies as he reappears behind Max. "I ran into them on the way, they said to watch to make sure no one comes down here."

Max nods and turns back to the window, watching as Karpov sets the tripod up, all the while ignoring the trembling man on the floor. 

Finally, the scientist looks at him. "What's your name?"

He hesitates for a moment before answering. "James Barnes." 

"Sure about that?"

"Yes." James hisses through gritted teeth. "I am James Barnes."

Karpov raises an eyebrow slightly before speaking again. "If you say so. Who is Captain America?"

"My best friend."

"Captain America is your mission." Karpov says in a tone that sounds like he's scolding a naughty school boy.

"I don't have a mission any more. You don't own me any more." James spits, and Max has to give him props for stubborn defiance.

Karpov smiles, a sly, unpleasant thing that has James subconsciously shifting slighty away from him and almost has Max feeling sorry for the man. Almost. "That's where you're wrong. You will always belong to us. Do you really think seventy years of programming can be undone in three months?"

"It's going pretty well so far." James replies with a small quirk of his mouth that dies almost instantly when Karpov beckons Jack-or-Jake forward, and takes a step back himself.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." the scientist says. "You let him cuff you, and I might not send the good captain the video of you in the chair later, or you fight, and I definitely send him the video." The coiled tension in James' shoulders leaves him as soon as Karpov mentions sending the video and he lets the big man pull his arms behind his back and cuff them, the metal one sparking slightly as a current is sent through it to force it to lie limp in the cuff.

Karpov smiles again and leans forward to switch the video camera off. "I'm sure he'll come running to find you once I send him this and 'forget' to make sure the location stays hidden..." James lunges towards him but is brought up short by the cuffs and Jack-or-Jake holding his upper arms in a bruising grip.

"You bastard." James hisses as he is propelled past the smirking Karpov, who only smirks wider and pulls a pen out to make a small note on his shirt cuff.

Max turns away from the window now the main event is over and sits down in Tom's chair again, waiting for his friend to walk down the corridor and no doubt kick him out of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It's just over 24 hours since JARVIS rececieved the first video when he gets the second. The AI alerts the team immediately, who all turn to Steve, who nods slightly to tell JARVIS to play it.

The James in this video already looks a lot different to the one of the day before. The purple hoodie he'd stolen from Clint is nowhere to be seen, as is the black t shirt he'd been wearing underneath. The skin on his flesh and blood arm is red and raw where the straps from the chair have obviously dug in, and the deep scarring where flesh meets metal is red and inflamed. Tony turns away slightly when the camera focuses on the scar tissue, and Steve is confused for a second before realising if anyone is going to have a problem with something being attached to a body the person needs but doesn't want, it's going to be Tony.

When James answers the question with his name in a fiercely defiant tone, Steve can't help but smile a little, glad that his friend is still there. It doesn't stop Steve from wincing at his friend's raspy voice and the obvious discomfort talking causes, but that's him all over - defiant until he feels safe, and if there's one thing James isn't at the moment, it's safe. His bravado doesn't stop the team from noticing the fine tremors that run through him every now and then, nor the pained expression he fails at hiding when he moves too quickly.

The last line from the man behind the camera has Steve already ready to ask JARVIS to track the video location before Natasha can jump in. "He's taunting you Steve."

"I know damn well what he's doing, but James is being tortured, Nat! I'm not just going to sit back and wait when I know my best friend is hurting, right now, and I could be doing something, anything, to try and find him." Steve throws her hand off his arm and makes to leave the room, but Bruce stops him before he can.

"Nat's right. They could be sending you on a wild goose chase, or worse, into a trap. We need more evidence. Get JARVIS to find the location-"

"He's already on it." Tony jumps in to say.

"And when he had, we'll see if there's anything on any of those lists to link the two together, so we can be sure there's an actual possibility he could be there. We'll be of no use to James if it is a trap and we end up in a similar situation to him." the scientist says calmly, and Steve has to concede the point. He sighs and nods.

"Alright then." the soldier reluctantly sits on the sofa and resumes waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Unfortunately for Karpov's ego, Bruce turns out to be completely right. Five hours after he gets confirmation that the video has been received by the team, there is still no sign of them leaving the Tower, the team he set out for the trap are all rather bored, and to top it all off, he's now sporting some bloody bite marks on his fingers, thanks to James. The latter had been vindicated by a particularly vicious shock that left the man unconscious, but Karpov was still losing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A failed attempt at finding James, and then a successful one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, i've had essays to write and I should be revising for exams. It's a little longer though.  
> As ever, unbeta'd and I own nothing, not even Sebastian Stan's wonderfully sad puppy dog eyes.

Two hours later, and the waiting is really starting to grate on Steve's nerves. He jumps up to pace the room for the fifth time in thirty minutes, ignoring the glare Natasha sends his way as she looks up from her phone.

"The last time there was a chance Bucky was in danger, I made Howard fly me to Austria." he says in response to Clint's request for him to sit down. "I can't just sit here and do nothing! So what if it turns out to be a trap? At least we'll know and be able to move on to the next place." he tries to reason with the others. 

"I have tracked the source of the video." JARVIS says suddenly, startling them, and proceeds to rattle off a series of coordinates. "I believe it is a warehouse in New Jersey."

"Let's go." Steve doesn't offer any room for argument, simply gets up and gets ready to leave. The rest of the team look at each other warily for a few seconds before shrugging as one and following the captain into the jet.

"Perfect timing." Nat says, standing up and brandishing her phone. "One of my contacts agrees. They've noticed increased activity in the past few days at the same coordinates." She doesn't waste time in heading to her room to pull on her suit, and neither do the rest of them. Ten minutes later, the team are in the air in one of Tony's jets, acquired after the fall of SHIELD. Tony denies all knowledge of this, but the logo has proved surprisingly hard to get rid of, and Clint is far too perceptive for his own good.

Half na hour later and the jet is setting down outside the warehouse. It looks abandoned, with rusting chain link fences and a 'Keep Out' sign barring the way. Tony's blasters quickly take care of the barrier and the group walk in, suspicion aroused by the complete lack of activity, especially with the noise of the jet engines and of the fence being broken.

"Anyone else have a bad feeling about this? Bruce? Cap?" Tony says lightly, trying to be stealthy and failing - a metal suit isn't the most agile thing to sneak around in.

"We have to get inside. Hawkeye, find a vantage point, see if you can see anything. Widow, with me, we'll try and find a door. You two, create a distraction. Doctor, you may want to get angry around about now." Steve orders, falling in Captain mode with ease as he commands his team.

Clint immediately looks about for a high roof, getting a lift off Tony when he finds one. Stark then sets about doing what he does best and creates a distraction as Steve and Natasha sneak into the warehouse. There's radio silence for a good half hour as Clint waits, Tony and Bruce wait for anyone to come out to warrant the Hulk making an appearance, and Steve and Natasha split up and work through all the corridors of the warehouse to eventually decide it is exactly as it seems - abandoned. The only sign of civilisation they see is a laptop set on a box. Steve makes to go over to it, assuming its the one the video was sent from.

"Stop." Natasha holds him back with a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be a trap." she tells him with a raised eyebrow, and raises her gun to send bullets into the computer. Before she gets chance, Tony suddenly comes on their comms. 

"Might want to make a snappy exit guys." he says quickly. "JARVIS is picking up some funky signatures from that box you're standing next to."

"What kind of funky?" Nat asks, gun still raised.

"Blow you into little tiny smithereens funky."

"Ah." she lowers her gun and she and Steve leave at a run. They almost clear the room before the box explodes. Steve automatically crouches to protect Natasha with his shield, but that leaves one arm unshielded and vunerable to the pieces of metal that had previously been harmless shelves. It's not until he gets outside that he realises his arm is bleeding rather profusely.

"I told you we should wait Cap." Tony says, with a grin like the chesire cat.

"Actually, you didn't. And now we've wasted more time on a dead end when we could have been actually finding James." he rounds on the genius, who doesn't back down.

"And you're hurt. Now we have to wait a few hours for your body to heal before we can do anything meaningful." Tony shoots back. "It's a good thing we all have the same powers, isn't it?" he snarks before stalking back towards the jet. Steve only just manages to get in before it takes off.

The bleeding has stopped by the time they get back to the Tower, but the atmosphere between Steve and Tony is still filled with tension. For once, and surprising everybody there, it's Tony who apologises first, Steve still almost vibrating with anger.

"Hey, Capsicle. I know you're worried. Shouldn't have said that."

Steve takes the apology with untypical bad grace, simply nods his head and sits on the sofa again, taking up the same position he's been in since the first video the day before.

It's a good few hours before the bad air finally dissipates and Steve relaxes. It's probably not a coincedence that he apologises when he realises the wound on his arm has healed. "Sorry Tony. I shouldn't have snapped like that."

Tony waves it off with an airy hand. "S'all good Cap. I've pissed off enough people in my time, nothing new." Steve nods in acknowledgment, glad he's cleared the air.

Silence reigns for another few minutes before is it broken by Bruce's phone going off. He has a brief conversation with the person on the other end before hanging up. "JARVIS, is there another warehouse five miles east of the one we were at this morning?"

"There is a range of warehouses in that perimeter Doctor Banner. One of which is owned by various people on the list of people linked to HYDRA."

The team instinvely look to Steve, who look to Tony. "What do you think?"

"Your call Cap."

Steve nods. "Let's go."

The journey to the warehouse is much like the one before, as is the split up of the team into groups. The main difference is the amount of soldiers and scientists around the warehouse. It's immediately clear that this is right place. The team get to work, and Steve and Natasha split off to find James.

It's clear when Steve and Natasha turn down a corridor that the heavy steel doors at the end hide what they came here for. They walk down the hall slowly, wary of anyone in the room hearing their footsteps - although if they hadn't noticed anything yet, it's unlikely anyone inside will hear the almost silent footsteps of Steve and the completely silent footsteps of Natasha. They pause for a second outside the door before Natasha puts her hand on it and pushes gently. They are both surprised when it opens very slightly before shutting again. She pushes it again, stronger this time, and it opens fully. There's no one inside, except James. Steve is utterly shocked at the change in his friend since the second video, just a few hours ago. He's strapped to the chair again, shirtless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He's mutterng something, and it takes Steve a few moments to realise what it is.

"Sergeant...32..5...77...sergeant...32...5...77...sergeant..." Steve is confused for a few seconds until he realises what's missing, and his heart sinks when he does. Everyone was taught in basic training to say only name, rank and serial number if they were captured. James is only repeating his rank and serial number. What makes him a soldier, and not what makes him a person. He swallows and goes to the side of the chair, looking around for a switch or anything to release the clamps around James' head and holding him to the chair. Natasha is by the panel on the other side, presumably also looking for the same thing. She must have found it, because suddenly all the restraints release and pull back into the chair. James doesn't show any sign of noticing the clamps have gone, but he does realise there is someone in the room with him.

"No...not again. please not again i'll obey not again" he slurs, turning his head to one side, his face towards Steve now as his eyes open slightly. They are glassy and unfocused, and it takes a good while for any recognition to appear in them, and even then it's only slight.

"I know you." James slurs. "I know you, i know you." he repeats, as though to assure himself of what he's saying.

"Yeah James, you do." Steve tells him gently. "Do you trust me?" James doesn't say anything for a few moments before nodding slowly. "I need you to sit up. We need to get out of here, we need to go. Come on." 

James again takes a few seconds to react, but when he does, he moves his arms and looks confused to find them free. Pushing himself up to sitting is a labourious process that has him wincing as strained muscles protest against the movement. Steve looks around for anything for him to wear, but comes up with nothing. "Can you stand?" he turns his attention to James who is sitting at the end of the chair now, staring at the floor. He nods slightly and only wobbles slightly as he stands. 

"Nat, you ready?" Steve asks, looking over to where the redhead is doing something on the databanks at the edge of the room.

"One moment." she says, typing something. "Okay, done." she finishes a moment later. "Let's go. Stark, Hawk, back to the jet. Wrangle the Hulk too." she says into her comms before walking to the door and holding it open for Steve, who is walking slightly behind James in case he falls. The way back to the jet is littered with the bodies of dead and dying HYDRA agents, and James flinches away from each and every one whilst still not showing much more recognition of the team than he had of Steve. A shirt is liberated from a random man on the floor to at least cover James up a little. He follows Steve without question, and the captain can't help but think that his friend is like a child in this state.

It's not until they get back to the jet and have taken off that James' eyes finally blossom with full recognition and he says in a small, broken voice "Steve?"

Steve, sat opposite to watch him closely, immediately goes to his knees in front of James. "Yeah, it's me. You're safe, it's okay."

"You came for me." 

"Always buddy. I'm with you until-"

"the end of the line." James interrupts, looking up at Steve for confirmation, who smiles slightly and nods. "Yeah, that's right. Until the end of the line."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from Bucky's experience back in HYDRA's hands, and a happy end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So because I have an essay due in tonight, I decided it would be perfect timing to finish this chapter. Obviously. It's a lot of hurt/comfort with a bit of fluff at the end, and I like it.  
> As always, unbeta'd and I own nothing.  
> There will probably be one more chapter just to finish it off, and then it's done. Thank you for all your kind comments and kudos and bookmarks, they make me happy! So...a few more? :D

The first few days are harder than Steve or any of the others thought it would be. The child-like state they found James in hasn't shown any signs of disappearing, and he won't do anything without being told to do it first. He eats and drinks, but only what's put in front of him. He'll speak, but only if he's asked a question, and even then won't make any definitive decision by himself. He sits if he's told to, stands if not. The nights are even harder. James refuses to sleep, instead spending the hours walking around the living room, obsessively checking exits and lines of sight, the dark circles under his eyes growing larger each day.

By the fifth day, Steve is almost at his wits end. He's trying to be patient with the shell of his best friend, but he can't be there all the time, can't predict what James wants if he won't talk or make any suggestions of his own. Even Captain America can get frustrated.

The breakthrough comes on the sixth day, although not quite as everybody had hoped. James is sat on the sofa, staring at the tv, Steve is in the kitchen getting a drink, and Tony is sat on the floor by the holographic table, muttering to himself about his work as he pokes and prods the blue images. James is barely listening to anything around him, but a few of Tony's words get through the fuzz that still coats his mind.

"...wipe it, start again-"

...and the next thing James knows, he's crouched in the corner and Tony is stirring in the remains of the table, blood on his face from where he's gone through the glass. Steve kneels in front of James, a hand stretched out to almost touch him, but not quite. "You okay?" the captain asks gently.

"Wha...what did I do?" James asks softly, and he sounds so lost and confused that Steve's heart hurts. "I don't want to forget again, don't make me please don't don't make me forget..." he pleads in the same tone, curling in on himself and gripping his hair with both hands, breath coming in sharp pants as he panics.

"Shh, James, it's okay, you're safe, remember? It's okay, no one's going to make you do anything, you're fine, it's okay." Steve tries to reassure him, wanting to prise James' hands from his hair but knowing it'll only panic him further, and he has no chance against the metal one anyway. "It's okay, you're safe, you're safe." Steve keeps up a litany of reassurances as James struggles to breathe. "Take a deep breath, that's right, and now out...yeah, that's good, like that, and again..." Eventually his breathing evens out, but only for a few seconds before it hitches again and James starts to sob.

This time Steve doesn't hesitate, just leans forward and gathers his friend into his arms. James automatically curls up into a tight ball and allows himself to be moved into Steve's embrace as he cries. Steve sheds a few tears himself. He's never seen James in such a state, not even after his mother died, his whole body shaking with each gut-wrenching sob. Fifteen minutes or more pass of the two of them sat on the floor, Steve keeping a stream of reassurances before James finally manages to stop the tears and he stops shaking. He pulls away after a few moments, looking at the floor as though he's ashamed.

"You okay?" Steve asks again. James doesn't respond for a moment, and Steve is about to ask again when he gives a small nod.

"I think so." he finally looks up with red-rimmed eyes."I remember...I'm James. No...Bucky...no. That doesn't fit. Doesn't sound right. James. I'm James Barnes."

Steve nods." Yeah, that's right. What about the others? Do you remember them?"

James hesitates, biting his lip, before nodding again. "Natalia is here, isn't she? There's an archer too. Clint. And...Tony." Here he stops for a moment, looking over Steve's shoulder at the remains of the table. Tony had fled the room as soon as he could, and had yet to return. "Oh."

"Tony can survive a hit to his ego." Steve reassures him quickly. "It's fine, it's not your fault." he adds, not wanting his friend to start panicking again. 

"I thought...he said something about wiping. I thought he was talking about me. I thought..." James looks down at his hands, the real one still shaking slightly. He takes a deep breath before carrying on. "My heads been a fog. I thought I was dreaming or something, that you couldn't really have saved me. I thought if I did as I was told, I would be allowed to keep dreaming. This is the best outcome its ever had."

It's Steve's turn to take a deep breath, at the implication that it's not the first time James has been left in that state, that he's dreamed about Steve saving him before and it's always turned out to be false. No wonder he's been so obedient since the warehouse. "I will always come for you. I'll never let you become their weapon again. I'm only sorry you had to go through it in the first place. No one should have to go through that, and especially not you." Steve says fervantly. "I will destroy every single HYDRA base that exists to make sure there is no chance of you having to go through that again."

James huffs a short laugh. "Just like old times?"

Steve's answering grin is wide and happy at his remembrence of the war and the Howling Commandos. "Just like old times. Only the team is a bit more annoying this time." James laughs again at that, and Tony must have been listening in for an appropriate moment to step back into the room, gash on his forehead now neatly taped together.

"Sorry to interrupt the love-in, but I kinda need to assess the damage to my table."

"Sorry." James immediately says, looking at the floor again.

"Hey, it's fine. I said something wrong, not the first time it's happened and certainly won't be the last. No harm, no foul." he says brightly. "Needed an excuse to make a new one anyway, this was was too low, got uncomfortable after a while."

Steve can tell the other man is bluffing, but makes a mental note to thank him later for the effort. He takes the small distraction as opportunity to stand and brush his trousers down before offering a hand to pull James up. "Come on. Now you remember who they are, time to meet the team again so you can start to piss Clint off."

James takes the offered hand and allows himself to be pulled up, although he doesn't really need the help.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Just because the haze over James mind has broken, it doesn't mean life gets any easier for him. Now he remembers, and more memories come back as the days go by. Nightmares are a recurring feature once again, with him waking up at least once a night. Sometimes though, the memories he gets back are the good ones, and these days are the best. He smiles and laughs with a twinkle in his eyes and Steve can almost fool himself into thinking he's got Bucky back, as he was before. On these days, it's a rarity that James' eyes go dark and he retreats into himself for a moment or two.

The really bad days are when he curls up on his bed and shivers his way through memory after memory, sometimes clawing at the seam between flesh and metal and leaving the scarring red and inflamed.   
Steve never knows what to do on these days, so has to contend with leaving glasses of water and plates of food that go untouched, and then the next day gently smearing gel on the scar to help the swelling go down as James stares into the distance. The rest of the team know to avoid the pair on days like these. Steve is just thankful that they are rare, happening maybe once a month or so.

James' recovery from the warehouse is even worse than when he first moved into the tower, but eventually he reaches the point where he once more steals Clint's clothes to piss him off, jokes with Natasha in fluid Russian (he assures Steve it's not at his expense, but he isn't always convinced) and drinks tea with Bruce - the pair had developed a surprisingly close friendship. It's during those moments that Steve sits back and smiles.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Natasha have a chat, and James and Steve have a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been a long time coming, and I'm not particularly happy with it, but if I try to make it better, I'll probably end up just never posting it at alll. So, yeah. This is the first chaptered fic I've ever actually finished, and all your lovely comments and kudos and bookmarks probably have something to do with that, so thank you so much for all of them :D This is the last chapter of this, but I have other ideas floating about, so if you like my writing, keep an eye out I guess? Thank you again!
> 
> As ever, I own nothing.

James and Natasha have taken to sparring on a daily basis, the mats more often than not surrounded by a crowd of people who admire the fluid way the pair dart around each other, neither of them pulling their punches. The two had quickly fallen back into their old routine, even though Natasha was even better trained now, and it was more like equals instead of teacher and student, or lovers as it became near the end. Every bout leaves them sweaty and panting heavily, and Tony has made more than one comment about the gym being for fighting, not fucking. Natasha takes great delight in hitting him every time he says so.

After one particularly tough session, where Nastaha had taken James down more than once and accidentally wrenched his metal arm into an awkward and painful position, they're lounging in the living room, James trying to relax his muscles enough to let the plates slip back into their proper alignment. 

"Come here." she says after watching him struggle for a good five minutes. James stands and goes over to where she sits in the armchair opposite, sitting at her feet when she gestures. She starts to rub his shoulders, finding the knots and massaging them out with deft fingers. The tension slowly disappears and she smiles softly as he practically melts into her. He finally gives a groan of satisfaction as the plates he'd been fighting against move into place.

"Thank you." he mumbles, too relaxed now to do anything else. Natasha laughs softly and and keeps working, now focusing her attention on his right shoulder.

"Do you remember the first time I did this for you?" she asks quietly. James hesitates for a long moment, and she's almost about to say it doesn't matter when he nods.

"I'd been training you for about a month, and you wanted to try that scissor kick thing you're so fond of. You'd only just learnt it then. You were so proud when you managed it-"

"-I didn't even notice I'd managed to dislocate your shoulder accidentally." she finishes with a wry smile that he can hear in her voice without turning round. Natasha moves her hands from his shoulders, all the knots smoothed out now, and instead runs them through his hair. He'd refused to get it cut back in the style he'd had before HYDRA, keeping the longer cut. James leans into her touch and hums in contentment.

"I swear you're actually a cat." she tells him.

"Steve used to say that all the time."

"What did Steve say all the time?" the man in question asks as he rounds the corner and enters the living room. James tenses slightly under Natasha's hands at the new voice, but relaxes almost immediately when he realises it's Steve.

"That James is actually a cat."

"Oh. Yeah. Touchy feely little jerk." he laughs, and grins even wider at the middle finger he gets in response from James, who now has his head leaned back against Natasha's armchair, eyes closed.

"Didn't hear you complaining when I kept you warm in winter, punk." James says without opening his eyes.

"Yeah, well we couldn't afford heating and you were like a human furnance." Steve points out. 

"Damn straight."

Steve grins again, but softer this time, revelling in the sight of his friend so relaxed with his back to another person and eyes closed. A few months ago, that would have been unthinkable.

"I can hear you thinking from here, old man." James grumbles. "Stop staring at me."

"Old man?!" Steve sputters. James just opens one eye and looks at him with a raised eyebrow for a second before Steve has to concede the point. He technically is older anyway. Steve sighs and gives in. "I'll see you later Buc-James." he corrects himself at the last minute. "Nat." he nods in her direction and she responds with a lazy wave, other hand going back to stroking James' hair.

"Bucky still not feeling right?" she asks after a few minutes of silence. 

James shakes his head. "I dunno. It doesn't feel wrong any more, but it doesn't feel right either." he chews his lip and considers for a second before continuing. "James is the shattered remains of who I used to be. Bucky is...he's a whole person with feelings and memories and loves and hates. I'm not him anymore."

"You are. You might not feel the same but you have the same thoughts and loves and hates. Your memories are an issue, I will agree..." Natasha trails off for a second before continuing. "But don't let the Soldier define you any more."

"He doesn't. Well. I'm trying not to let him. It's working, mostly." he tilts his head back to look at her upside. "Haven't had a nightmare for three days now." Natasha smiles in response, and the two lapse into silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

"When Steve first found me after the Helicarrier, all I knew was I had two identities battling it out in my head, and I couldn't work out which was was more me." James says suddenly after a while. "So I took the cowards route, and chose a different one."

Natasha doesn't hesitate before replying. "That's not the cowards route. That was the first major decision you made for yourself in seventy years, the cowards route would have been letting Steve call you Bucky, even if it made you feel worse." 

"Hmmm." James isn't convinced, but lets it slide anyway. 

"You're worried about what Steve will think." Natasha says suddenly.

"Huh?"

She laughs at his eloquent reply and elaborates. "You think Steve will underestimate how much this means to you."

"What? No!" Natasha raises an eyebrow. "Well. Maybe. A little." he allows with a small shrug. James chews his lip for a second before talking again. "It's mostly...if I decide, after, that actually I prefer James, I wouldn't be able to stand seeing that expression he'll have. You know the one, the one he has whenever he thinks I'm not looking and I've had a particularly bad day."

Natasha knows the one. She isn't surprised it annoys James. "I get what you mean, but I don't think he will. If you do decide James fits better after all, he'll accept that. He's an accepting person, especially when it comes to you."

************************************************************************************

The next morning, Steve finds a particularly grumpy James in the kitchen, glaring into a mug of coffee like it had done something to personally wrong him.

"What did the coffee ever do to you?" he jokes, pouring a mug for himself and leaning against the counter, trying and failing to not do the expression James had been talking about the day before.

"Couldn't sleep last night." Steve's smile immediately drops, and now he looks closer, he can see the dark circles under his friend's eyes that always follow a bad night. "Is one week without a nightmare too much to ask? Just one fucking week, that's all I want." he almost pleads, slamming his metal hand on the table, denting it. Steve ignores the thickness in James' voice that says he's near to tears. Steve takes the seat next to him and peers under the curtain of hair James is hiding behind.

"You know you can come get me, no matter what time, right? We'll watch a film or something. I'd probably be awake anyway, don't need much sleep myself." James nods before sighing heavily and looking up through his hair.

"I know."

"James-" Steve starts to say, but is interrupted before he can get any futher.

"Never did like being called James, did I?" Steve is surprised by the sudden change of conversation, but goes with it easily.

"Nah. Said it fit worse than your Sunday best." Steve grins a little in memory. "Never listened when the teachers called you James, got you in a lot of trouble."

"I spent seventy years...or well, however long I was out of cryo for - being called the asset or the soldier. When you found me, I was still struggling to think of myself as a person again, let alone one who had close enough friends to have a nickname." James pretends not to notice Steve's wince, the same as whenever he talks about what HYDRA did. "Bucky fit even worse than James then."

Steve waits in silence for a moment or two, before prompting him gently. "And now...?"

Silence for a few more moments before he replies. "Now I think I'm as much Bucky as I'll ever be." he finally looks up, and is taken aback by the sheer happiness on Steve's face. The hug is a surprise at first, but Bucky soon leans into it, head burrowed into Steve's shoulder.

"Welcome back, Buck."


End file.
